Choices
by EllieRose101
Summary: Buffy's plan to never tell her friends about what happened between her and Spike is foiled when the results of a pregnancy test come through. (Set during Season Six, this is NOT a happy fluffy baby-fic. Things might get dark, for a little while.)
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Buffy couldn't believe it. Why was this happening to her? She'd done the right thing and ended it with Spike. Well, sure, it wasn't right to have used him in the first place, but wasn't it understandable? Hadn't she suffered enough?

She groaned and inspected the little white stick one more time, expecting it to change if she looked hard enough.

How was it even possible? Vampires are supposed to be sterile, right? She hoped that wasn't myth. Spike would have told her if it wasn't, wouldn't he? Or Giles?

A million questions. Another groan.

Giles was going to kill her. Except, no, he wasn't, because he was gone – he'd left her, just like everybody else – and she didn't have to tell him anything. She obviously wasn't going to keep it, so why was she even stressing?

A knock at the door.

"Buffy? Hurry up, you're taking forever and I need to pee!"

"Uh, sure, Dawn. Just a minute."

Buffy looked at the test one final time. It looked back at her.

* * *

><p>The first thing Spike was aware of, in his sleep-addled state, was the Slayer busting into the bedroom bit of his crypt.<p>

He grinned, assuming she must be there for some of the old cold comfort, but there was anger written across her face, and it caused flashbacks of their breakup the previous week to come back to him.

The smile dropped as he racked his brains trying to think if he'd done anything wrong since then. There was panic, as he drew a blank, because she was surely pissed off. He hadn't seen her so angry in such a long time. Was it bad that he missed it?

She plowed through his thoughts.

"What did you do?"

Well, now, wasn't that the million-dollar question.

He stared at her blankly.

She began pacing.

"I've been over this a hundred times and I don't get it. It must be a trick. Some kind of twisted ploy to get me back."

"Buffy-"

"No, don't talk. Just tell me what you did."

He looked at her, wondering if her request would sink into her head and she'd realize how ridiculous it was.

"Well?" she tapped her foot. "I'm waiting."

Obviously not.

Spike sighed and stood up. Clearly there was to be no more sleep for him anytime soon. He didn't know how to feel when she didn't shy away from his naked body and turn around like she normal did – pretending that it was something unnatural when she wasn't using it to get her rocks off.

This time she didn't react at all – he could have been wearing a clown suit and she wouldn't notice, the mood she was in. It worried him.

"Buffy," he began again, "What's wrong?"

"You! God, don't you listen?!"

"Heard you fine, you're jus' not making any bleeding sense."

Within the space of a few moments she breathed a heavy sigh, let her shoulders drop, and she sat down quietly on the edge of the bed – defeated.

He just watched the fight go out of her, and it was terrifying.

Spike was stuck between going over to her and holding her tightly, and staying stood where he was and asking her about it again instead. He didn't think either would do much good, so he remained in limbo as she made the first move.

Buffy took something from her pocket and held it out to him. As soon as he took it she burst into tears.

* * *

><p>Buffy was sorely disappointed when she didn't feel Spike's arms come around her like she expected. Sniffling and pushing her tears aside, she looked at him.<p>

He was stood there, looking at the test with deep concentration etched into his features.

"Spike?" her voice came out as a whimper and she hated herself for it.

"Who is…" he finally looked at her again. "Who's the-"

Buffy stood up so fast her head spun. She was beyond incensed.

"You are _not _going to ask me that question!"

"Fine, okay," he tossed down the test and held up his hands. "It doesn't matter. What do you want me to do?"

She gaped at him.

There was a brief moment of pause, and then she threw herself at him – punching and kicking.

"You did this you undo it!"

Spike seemed too shocked to block the blows.

"Me?"

"You idiot!" she smacked him hard across the face.

He took a firm grip of her arms and looked deep into her eyes.

"Me?" he said again.

"What, you think I've been with someone else?!" she was hysterical. She expected him to help. Why wasn't he helping?!

He let her go, and she just kind of slumped back onto the bed. He still wasn't wearing any clothes, but both of them seemed to forget that fact.

"How could I?"

"That's what I want to know!"

He shook his head. "Well, I couldn't."

"God, you really do think I've been just sleeping with everyone, don't you."

There was genuine betrayal in her voice. "I thought this meant something to you."

In truth, she thought it meant _everything_ to him. She had her hopes set on it. That was her guarantee that he'd help her.

Her mind was still reeling. "Have you been with other people?"

"What? Bloody hell, of course not!"

Relief flooded through her, for a moment, then she pushed it aside.

"Well, I haven't either. I can't believe you thought-"

"I didn't, alright? This is me not thinking, right here. But you're the one always denying that we have something, an' you ended it, so why should I think I'd be the only one other than my sad little ego you like to kick so much?"

He didn't mean to say that – to betray so much honesty and vulnerability when kicking him was exactly what she liked to do, but thinking really had gone out the window. Buffy wanted to cry again, knowing he was right. There was no reason for him to have faith in her. She tried to be calm – rational.

"I thought vampires couldn't have babies. Aren't you all like sterile?"

"Far as I bloody know," he affirmed. "Not like we're known for shacking up with humans. Well, not long enough to find out at any rate. More like suck, fuck, and move the hell on. Not even in that order."

Her stomach lurched. She closed her eyes.

Finally – _FINALLY_ – Spike did what she'd been silently begging him to do and he leaned in close to offer comfort.

She pushed him away. Wasn't done being angry. With him, the world – everything.

"Am I a lucky one, Spikey? That you didn't kill me before having your way?"

"Hey, now," he physically recoiled at her words. "One – it was _your_ first move. The kiss, the fucking, that was _you_ who started that fire."

She went to argue, but he held up a hand.

"Two – I was talking about other vamps. That was never my game."

"Yeah." She spat the word out, making it very clear she didn't believe him at all.

"Yes," he stated, firmly. He was not joking around. She believed him, then. She changed tack.

"You think if I got knocked up by someone else I'd come to you?"

He gave her a look that said, 'duh.'

"Who else would you go to?"

That made her laugh. In the midst of her crisis she cracked and laughed at the truth behind his words. She laughed until she was crying again.

Spike moved to hold her, once more, and she let him.

Buffy let her tender side show through, for once.

"Spike, I can't keep this baby. I don't have a job, or a future, or money. I…" she looked away. On this occasion she found no perverted kind of joy when she released her old mantra. "I don't love you."

He didn't say anything, but his grip on her tightened significantly. That told her all she needed to know. She considered it the perfect response, actually.

"Shouldn't you talk to yer watcher?"

"No."

"Okay."

"I should go home."

"Okay."

"Spike!"

"What?"

"Stop being nice to me!"

"Bloody hell, woman, what do you want?"

"I… I-" once more she looked around, searching for the answer. "I don't want this to be happening." Her voice cracked. "This can't be happening."

_To be continued... _


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Buffy walked into her house to be met with what looked suspiciously like an intervention. She would have walked straight out again, but as she turned around she ran into Spike's chest. She hadn't even noticed him following her home, this time. He had her pregnancy test in his hand again.

"Will you put that away!" she said to him, in an odd kind of hushed shout clearly intended to enforce her message to him, but not draw the attention of the others. It was pointless, though. He slipped it in his pocket and they turned to face the Scoobys, who were holding a bunch more.

Willow stepped forward. "Is there something we should know?"

Spike threw Buffy an annoyed look.

"How many did you bloody take?"

"Shut up."

"An' you left them around?"

"Not around, in the trash."

"Uh, guys?" Willow tried again. "What is this?"

Buffy shrugged. "I'm pregnant."

If Spike didn't know any better he'd have been convinced the news didn't bother her at all.

"Whoa," said Willow.

"I'll see your whoa and raise you a what-the-heck," added Xander. "This is mystical right? Some big supernatural thing, not a Buffy's-been-playing-with-boys thing, right?"

After a quick shared glance between Buffy and Spike she said, "Yeah, mystical. Totally supernatural."

She couldn't look at him a second time, knowing he'd be crushed by her words, _again_. Losing her nerve she quickly added, "Spike's the dad."

There were no 'whoas' that time. Everyone was speechless, at least for a while.

"What do you mean?" asked Dawn, eventually.

Buffy looked at her sister. "What do you think I mean?"

"That, that-" Willow interrupted, as she clutched at straws. "Oh, that you had a vision, and that you were told your pregnant, and that Spike is the dad, for, uh… some reason? and that's it. Nothing more too it." She nodded, clearly proud of her theory.

"Or it's a joke?" guessed Xander.

Anya rolled her eyes. "What's most likely is that they had crazy naked sex."

Buffy wasn't in the mood to go over everything again.

"Y'know what? This isn't up for discussion. I'm pregnant, I'm keeping it, Spike's the father, get over it. I'm going to bed, you can let yourselves out."

When she moved into the hallway there was a beat, as everyone just sat and looked at each other. Spike was uncertain about whether he should follow Buffy, or if he was included in the group that was supposed to leave, but then she came back and just kind of grabbed him before amending, "_We're_ going to bed."

* * *

><p>"Luv?" said Spike, as he shut Buffy's bedroom door. Almost instantly she pinned him against it and started attacking his mouth with bruising kisses.<p>

"I'm not your love."

"Now hold on a minute," he pushed her back a little. "You said this was over."

"I say a lot of things," she retorted, jumping right back on his lips again, knowing he wasn't likely to reject her twice.

True to form, he gave in and laid her on the bed, but even as he did so he was torn about it. In all the times he'd been with Buffy, in all the ways, it had never felt wrong to him before. When a knock came at the door he was actually somewhat relieved.

A very pissed Dawn walked in.

"How long has this being going on?"

The question was addressed to him. Why was he suddenly supposed to be the fount of all knowledge? He loved the Summers women, he really did, but in that moment he just wanted them to leave him the fuck alone. He half expected Joyce to rise from her grave just to yell at him for knocking up her eldest.

"Does it matter?" asked Buffy.

"Yes," said Dawn, who then whipped around to look at her. "I'm not surprised you didn't tell me. But you-" she faced Spike again. "How could you?"

"Wait," Buffy got to her feet. "What is this? You expect the soulless blood sucking fiend to be honest with you, but not me?"

"Duh!"

The Slayer gasped in horror.

"You're shocked? He's the only person to ever treat me like an adult, and all you do is push me away."

"That's not true!"

"It is, pet," said Spike.

"Shut up," she told him again. Spike had heard her say those words to him so many times, but never with so much venom. Apparently it was a day of firsts for them, and not the good kind. Could he run away?

No.

Well, yes, technically, but he wouldn't. There was never any doubt about that.

There was a tense silence as everyone glared at each other.

"Are you just going to start sleeping here?" asked Dawn.

"Yes," said Buffy, at the same time that Spike answered. "No."

He shook his head and amended his answer. "I don't know."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"No," Buffy told her. Spike didn't argue, but he did offer the girl a sympathetic look. He wondered if he'd just buggered up all the faith she had in him.

"Look, Dawn," he began.

Buffy interrupted him, finishing his sentence in a way completely different to what he was going for: "We need some space."

Dawn looked injured as she was forcedly moved back towards the door.

It was shut in her face.

Spike protested about her treatment. "Buffy, you can't-"

"Shut up."

"No, Buffy, this is bloody insane."

She stalked up to him, with a clear fighting stance, and he backed down and shut up.

'So much for not being her whipping boy,' he thought to himself. A day earlier he would have clocked her one for being such a bitch. Not now. Never now.

He prepared himself for a blow, but it didn't come. When he looked at her again she was sat on the bed ready to burst into tears again.

"God, what's wrong with me?"

"Shock," he suggested.

She shook her head. "I thought I was better, that I was stopping doing this. Had put it behind me."

Spike placed a tentative hand on her back, and she curled into his side.

"Think you should talk to Niblet."

Buffy shook her head again. That annoyed him, but he wasn't going to show it.

"Can I?"

She nodded, before rolling on her side and assuming the fetal position.

As Spike reached the door he could smell the tang of her tears hit the air, and he was tempted to forget Dawn and go back to her, but he didn't. He couldn't.

* * *

><p>Spike knocked on Dawn's door and was greeted with a string of swear words he didn't know she knew. Some <em>he<em> didn't even know.

"It's me," he said.

There was silence from the other side.

"Niblet?" he tried the handle, and it was locked, but that didn't stop him getting in anyway, with just the right amount of force.

"Can't you take a hint?!" she screeched. She'd been crying too.

"I'm sorry," Spike told her. He meant it. There was a part of him that thought the words might become his catch phrase for the next nine months, if not beyond.

Dawn looked at him, intently.

"Is Buffy sorry?"

"She doesn't know what she is," he answered, honestly. "She doesn't mean to push you away."

"Yeah, right."

"Hey, she loves you."

"What do you know about love?"

Spike flinched, and then Dawn apologized.

"Look, everyone's just a little wound. Give it a day or two," he said.

"Fine," said Dawn.

"That's my girl."

He didn't know why he said that. There was a little awkward laugh from Dawn in response. The girl truly felt like a little sister to him.

"Will you sit with me?" she asked.

"Uh…" he looked around, spotting a fold up chair beside the desk. "Sure, for a bit."

With any luck she'd be asleep soon, and he'd have a half a minute to think straight before going back to check on Buffy.

The day couldn't end soon enough, far as he was concerned.

_To be continued... _


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

At about 3AM Buffy came to stand in her sister's doorway and look across at Spike. He was sat there, at the desk, staring into the distance, but then his eyes drifted to hers.

With just a look she invited him to come with her, and he stood.

Dawn was fast asleep – lightly snoring – when he passed her.

Reaching Buffy, he closed the door without a sound.

They looked at each other and said nothing. Both looked weary as she took his hand and lead him back to her room.

They laid down, and began kissing and touching, tenderly.

Clothes slipped off and then Buffy rolled over and demanded Spike "stop it."

"What?" he asked, in a whisper.

"Being gentle."

"Buffy-"

"Please."

It wasn't often she begged – only when she really wanted something. It gave him pause.

"I can't work it out," he said. "Are you trying to punish you or me?"

Buffy didn't answer, and so, he posed another question.

"Did you mean what you said?"

She sighed. She didn't want to talk anymore. Didn't want to think.

"Which bit?"

"You're keeping it?"

"No."

"No?"

"I don't know." She sat up. "Maybe. Probably not."

"Right." He looked troubled. There weren't words to describe the wars going on behind his eyes. Not able to look at him anymore, Buffy pushed him out of bed, only then to throw herself back on top of him.

"Stop being understanding."

Not knowing how to grant that specific request, he kissed her, and that appeared to be the right answer.

* * *

><p>They slept in late; woke still on the floor, which was a good thing, because neither one of them had closed the curtains, and the bed was now swathed in light.<p>

It was the first time that Spike had actually got to hold her the whole night through, and it tore at his heart, knowing it only happened because Buffy was hurting more than ever, and not knowing if it would happen again.

"I had a shift this morning," she said.

"Yeah?"

She sighed against his chest. "Don't think I'm gonna go back."

He kissed her forehead.

Although logically he knew she needed the money, he didn't want her to go back to the Doublemeat Palace. She was better than the place – he'd always said so.

He also told her a million times he'd happily provide for her, but he didn't think she'd accept that even yet.

There was a temptation to ask her what the plan was, but he knew not to bother voicing it. And, so, they laid there for a bit in silence.

* * *

><p>Finally up and dressed – albeit in sweatpants and a loose fitting top – Buffy rummaged through her fridge, finding a bag of blood and tossing it to Spike, who was on a stool by the island.<p>

"You not eating anything?" he asked, as he ripped at the plastic with his teeth.

She shook her head.

The blood was then abandoned, as he went to her; tried to hold her.

"No," she said, shrugging him off.

"Jus' let me do something," he pleaded, wrapping her up in her arms again.

Buffy breathed a sigh and let her head fall against his shoulder.

That's when Willow came in from class.

"Oh, I- uh, didn't mean to interrupt," she said, as she put her book bag down on the counter, effectively pushing Spike's meal out of the way. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Don't, Will," said Buffy. She thought about letting go of Spike, now they weren't alone anymore, but she didn't bother. It would take too much energy.

Willow looked offended. Half way through taking out a notebook she decided to put it back in again and go upstairs instead.

"Is this what it's going to be like?" Buffy asked the empty space that had been occupied by her best friend.

"Only if you let it, I reckon," said Spike.

"Can you get post-natal depression before you give birth?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Could just be the regular kind," he suggested.

"I guess."

"Buffy, you need to eat."

She let him go.

"Maybe I don't want to eat. Maybe I don't want to work in a crappy job, or have your baby, or go out fighting demons some night and not come back," she shook her head. "I don't want this life."

"Tough," said Spike.

She cracked a smile. "Well, that wasn't so reassuring."

"Because it's the truth. It's your life, and you either change it or accept it."

"I had a plan, y'know? Get rid of you, check-" she paused when she saw him wince. "Sorry, but, I mean, it was the plan. Then I was gonna get out of debt. Sort everyone else out – Dawn, Willow – save the world, then figure out what _I _want and go after it."

"If you don't mind me sayin', that was a shitty plan."

Buffy pouted, but there was the tiniest sparkle of mirth in her eyes.

"How about we go upstairs again?" she suggested.

"Sure," said Spike, opening a cupboard. "Soon as you eat something."

_To be continued... _


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Spike felt angry with himself. Part of him – the man part, he reckoned – was aching because of what Buffy was putting both him and herself through, while the demon in him was celebrating the fact that that it had what it wanted, at least in the physical sense. His demon self was angry with his human side, telling him to shut up and just enjoy it, whereas his human side was anything but enjoying what he and Buffy were doing. His conscience was screaming inside him to stop.

"So much for not bloody having one," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" said Buffy, who was currently under him; again, on the floor rather than the bed.

"Nothin'," said Spike. He didn't want to talk to her. They'd been switching between shagging each other's brains out and having long verbal fights all day, and he was just so tired of it all. He wished they could just have a good proper fist fight and have done with it, but that wasn't going to happen. Buffy wasn't going to let it drop, however. She'd had her orgasm and now it seemed time to revert to bickering.

"No, I think it was something," she said. "Why don't you just say it to my face?"

Spike took a deep breath and moved off her. "Maybe it wasn't about you."

Buffy raised her eyebrow, to which Spike rolled his eyes and then reached for a cigarette. He didn't find one, of course, because Buffy had made him throw them out earlier in the day.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"What?"

"Are we together now? Is this what it's going to be like?"

Buffy opened her mouth and then closed it again without answering. Clearly it wasn't the argument she was expecting – or wanting.

"Why do you always have to ask me these questions?" she demanded, then.

Spike shook his head. Now he_ knew _she was doing it on purpose.

"Are you actually trying to find things to fight about?"

"Of course not! How could you thin-"

He gave her a look and she stopped, midsentence, to shuffle around awkwardly.

"So maybe that was a little immature."

"Yeah," Spike snarked.

She looked almost on the verge of yelling at him again, but then bit it back down.

Maybe a little honesty wouldn't hurt_ too_ much.

"At least we know where we stand when we're fighting," she said.

"Speak for yourself."

Buffy's brow furrowed.

"You don't think it makes things simpler?"

"Nah."

"Well, I do."

"Figured that one out, yeah? Look, can't we just talk about things?"

"What things?"

"Blood hell, stop doin' that!"

"Sorry."

Spike's eyebrows shot up, but before he could say anything Buffy put a finger to his lips and said, "Don't get used to me saying that."

He smiled at her, and she took her finger back again.

"I just…" she paused to gather her thoughts, "Everything's so complicated right now, and you were always supposed to be easy."

"Oi!"

"Oh, you know that's not what I meant."

Spike's smile had turned into a smirk. Yeah, he knew exactly when she meant. He always did. It's what she liked about him.

Buffy continued, "When I was with you, before, it was the only time I could get away from all the stuff that's bearing down on me."

"An' now?"

"And now… now even this is complicated," she admitted. "Would you quit smiling at me?"

"I'm jus' relieved it's not just me," said Spike, in his defense.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, surprising herself by snuggling closer to him again.

"Never thought I'd say this, but can we cut back on the bloody stupid arguments, jus' for a bit?"

"Yeah," said Buffy again. And then she kissed him.

It seemed they were back into the sex portion of the pattern, but it was less frantic. Spike wondered if they'd stay true to their word and give the petty fights a rest in exchange for more conversation, when the time came round again…

* * *

><p>"It's awful!" Willow exclaimed, for the fifth time. "You guys don't know how bad it is, having to live there, hearing them do that all night."<p>

"Don't really wanna even think about it," said Xander.

"Why don't you move out?" asked Anya.

Willow looked gravely offended at the suggestion.

"Well, if it's as bad as you say it is."

"Why should I have to move out?"

"Why should they stop? It's Buffy's house."

Willow turned to her best friend for support, but Xander held up his hands to indicate he was staying out of it.

"It's awful," she said again. "It's _wrong_!"

Anya stopped dusting the stock and turned to look at her, sat there at the research table. "Is it?"

"Duh!"

"Why?"

"Xander, say something!"

"Alright, alright. Anya, it's wrong because Spike is evil."

"Is he?"

Willow released a loud groan.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't see it. You weren't calling him evil when you were letting him babysit Dawn all last summer."

"Well, no. Tha-that's different?"

"How?"

"It just is!"

"This is getting us nowhere," said Xander. "Why don't we all meet up later for a proper Scooby meeting and get to the bottom of it then?"

"Fine," said Anya.

"Whatever," said Willow.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, by the time the post-conversation round of sex was over Buffy had put sleep next on the agenda. She stood on wobbly legs and then flopped herself down onto the bed. Spike was unsure if he was welcome in beside her, but she moved over a little to indicate that he was. And, so, they rested - for all of two minutes until they heard Dawn coming in and bounding up the stairs.<p>

"Buffy?" she called in through the door.

"Yeah?"

"Is it safe to come in?"

Spike wrapped the comforter more tightly around both of them and then gave Buffy a nod.

"It's fine. What's up?"

The door opened.

"Geeze, guys, you're still in bed?"

Spike avoided Dawn's gaze.

"What's up?" Buffy repeated.

"Oh, I just came from the Magic Box. Xander said to tell you there's gonna be a meeting here later."

Buffy's jaw dropped.

"Hey, don't look at me. I think it was Willow's idea."

"Great. When are they coming?"

"Uh," Dawn looked at her watch, "A half hour?"

"Bloody hell!"

Buffy turned to Spike and asked, "Do you think we could just not let them in?"

"Well, I'll just leave you to it," said Dawn, before making to leave again.

"Wait," Buffy yelled after her.

She turned around again.

"I'm sorry, about before. We're good, right?"

"Yeah, right," said Dawn.

She shut the door.

"That sounded real convincing," Buffy commented.

"It'll take time," said Spike. "An' as for havin' people in your house, I'm all in favor for just locking the bleeding lot of them out."

"I can't do that."

"Well, yeah, you can."

"But I'm not going to."

"There's your answer then," he concluded, as he sank down further into comfort.

"Hey, what are you doing? We've gotta get ready!"

"You've all but bloody worn me out! An' plus, it's not me they're gonna want to talk at."

Buffy yanked him roughly out of bed.

"You are not getting out of it that easily, mister. C'mon, shower, now."

He perked up a little at that.

"Havin' one together, are we?"

"Well we don't have time for separate ones!"

_To be continued... _


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Spike paced around Buffy's bedroom as she purposefully took a long time to do her make-up. Despite supposedly saving time by sharing a shower, she was in no rush to go down and see her friends.

She didn't want to see them. He knew that, and he didn't blame her, but it was still unsettling. Buffy's friendships were one of the few things that kept her together. It's why he'd attacked them when he was trying to double-cross her to Adam. They used to be a strength - a support - along with her mom, but she'd lost Joyce, and the Scoobys were on shaky ground. He wouldn't have been so concerned if she'd lean on him emotionally, instead of just physically. At least then she'd have_ someone_, but it wasn't happening. Just as she was beginning to shake off the things weighing her down, and beginning to open up again, she got the news and just closed right back up again – tighter than before. Spike wanted to feel resentful of his baby for that, but he couldn't find it within himself. In contrast, Buffy seemed to be bitter enough for both of them. He could see it growing, each day. The darkness was swirling around her, and he was desperate to find a way through it – somehow.

Downstairs he heard each of them arrive – Willow first, then Xander and Anya – and found himself wishing Tara was there, thinking she might bring some balance to the meeting that was bound to go south fast.

Buffy turned around to face him, finally. She looked nervous. He reached out to touch her, but pulled back at the last minute, unsure if she'd accept his comfort. He looked down, then suddenly back up again – into her eyes – when she took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. They kissed, briefly, and then went downstairs…

* * *

><p>Willow, Xander, and Anya stood as Buffy and Spike entered the living room. Dawn had joined the gathering by that point, too, but she remained seated. Everyone's eyes seemed focused on Buffy and Spike's joined hands, but then Buffy quickly pulled hers away again. Spike forced himself not to feel the hurt of it. He sat down in an armchair, only to have Buffy follow him across the room and sit directly in his lap.<p>

'So,' he thought, 'It's not just me she's giving mixed signals to.'

He could see the concentration on Xander's face, as he tried to figure out what was happening. Spike expected him to be the first to jump in and voice his concern but, to his surprise, it was Willow that did it.

"Buffy, this is crazy," she said.

Spike gritted his teeth. He really expected her to have more tact than that. Buffy said nothing. She gave no sign that she was actually listening.

"Which bit?" asked Dawn. Willow gave her a confused look, and she clarified, "Is it crazy that Buffy's with Spike, that's she pregnant, or that she's acting like a complete moron?"

"Bit!" Spike warned.

"What? She is."

"I am," Buffy agreed. That was all she said, making no defense of herself. Spike tried to offer one on her behalf, though.

"Look, yer sister's been through a lot," he began, before correcting himself. "She's _still_ going through a lot."

"And you think you're helping?" asked Willow.

"I don't think I'm making things worse," he replied.

The witch made a scoffing sound, to which Anya stood up and gave her piece.

"I don't want to be here," she said. "Everything's all tense, and I'm not sure any of us are helping."

Xander tried to sshhh her, and get her to sit down again, but she smacked his hand away and went away into the kitchen. He didn't follow, but he also didn't openly disagree with her.

"What's this meetin' supposed to achieve, exactly?" asked Spike.

Willow looked around awkwardly, then shrugged in answer.

"An intervention, is that it? You think you can talk the Slayer out of depression and the little problem of bein' pregnant will jus' disappear?"

"No. That's not… No!" said Willow. "I mean, how is she even pregnant? We should look into it."

"Still in the room," said Buffy.

Spike willed her to say more, and actually take part in the discussion, but she didn't, so he spoke again.

"I don't know what the big deal is. If Angel and Darla can make a sprog I don't see why it's so bloody impossible for me."

Everyone gaped at him – Willow, Xander, and Dawn, that is – while Buffy rose to her feet and slapped him so hard across the cheek the other three flinched.

"Angel has a kid and you didn't tell me?"

Rubbing his jaw, Spike said, as casually as he could: "Reckoned that was his job."

"No. Well, yeah. But you knew. You're supposed to be honest with me. I expect more from you!"

Spike didn't know how to feel about that, exactly, but he could have sworn he felt his dead heart swell a little. She expected better of him? Well surely that meant she knew he could be good, for her, at least. It was only a crumb, but he grasped it tightly. Buffy was in a bad place right now, he knew that, but she wouldn't always be. And he planned to still be around when then good days would come. If she didn't stake him first, that is. The Vamp knew he needed to be on his best behavior.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Buffy wheeled round to face him again. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"Right," she looked around, awkwardly. "Good."

If Spike didn't know any better he'd have sworn Buffy wanted him to lash out at her.

"Wait," Xander interjected. "Don't you wanna know more about this Angel and Darla thing? Wouldn't that, y'know, be relevant?"

"No," said Buffy, she didn't want to think about it. "It must have been years ago."

"Uh, actually…" Spike started. All eyes were on him again. "I think she's due soon."

"Whoa," said Willow.

"What the hell?" said Dawn, "I thought Darla was dusted."

Spike shook his head. "Not anymore."

Anya must have been listening to the conversation from the other room, because she came back in and was interested in the new development.

"How did you hear about this?" she asked.

Spike shrugged. "Demon grapevine."

"Damn. I wish I was still connected to that."

Ignoring Anya, as she usually did, Willow voiced what everyone was thinking: "Maybe their pregnancy is connected to this one."

"No," said Buffy and Spike in unison.

Well, almost everyone.

Willow tried to explain the reasoning of her theory, but neither of the prospective parents would entertain the idea. In fact, Buffy wasn't prepared to entertain any more discussion at all. She tried to go upstairs again, but Spike held her back.

"Buffy, pet, you have to make some kind of decision," he said.

"No, I don't," she bit out.

"Buffy-"

"Just stop pressuring me, alright?!"

"Bloody hell, you're not the only one this is hard on, y'know."

If looks could kill…

Spike thought she was considering hitting him again.

"You have _no_ idea what I'm going through!"

"I know that," Spike agreed, before heaving a sigh. "I'm just-"

"I know," Buffy cut him off. She seemed to get what he was trying to say, and she softened. "I'm sorry. Please can we just leave it for tonight?"

Spike nodded his head and took her hand again. Before they reached the door Willow stepped in front of them, though.

"I'm not gonna let this happen," she said. "I'm not gonna live in a house where you're doing these things."

"Then don't live here," said Buffy – her voice completely devoid of emotion.

Then she and Spike went back upstairs again.

_To be continued... _


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Notes: two fairly major plot points and more depression.

**WARNING: Some readers might find this chapter particularly upsetting. **

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Six<span>

If Spike was worried about Buffy spending all day riding him ragged and doing nothing else, he was down right disturbed when she went catatonic on him.

She'd spent hours just lying in bed, ignoring the world. Her heartbeat and breathing were so soft and steady he'd almost been convinced she were asleep, had her eyes not been open. Last time she was like this Willow helped her, but there was no chance of that now.

Each time Buffy blinked her eyes stayed closed a few seconds longer than normal. It was like her whole body was slowing down. Shutting down. Would it reject the baby, as a result? Or was the baby the cause and not the effect? Everything was a mess, the Slayer had got that much right. He tried talking to her, holding her, sitting as far away from her as he could while still being in the same room, it didn't change anything. She didn't react to him at all. He gulped as the thought hit him: it was as if he were dead to her; or she to him. She was dead to the world, and it was his fault.

Irony notwithstanding, he needed air. He just couldn't bear to go outside and be that far away from her. Not the way she was.

The bathroom being two doors down, with only a now empty bedroom in between, Spike decided it was a safe enough distance. Safe enough to give him space, but also not too far, so he could still feel her presence.

His tears washed down the drain as he scrubbed himself clean.

* * *

><p>Reentering Buffy's bedroom he found her sitting up, but still with a vacant look in her eye. He cursed himself for needing space, and for leaving her; for the fact that he wasn't there when she achieved the monumental task of minute movement. Then he wondered if she'd been waiting for him to go to do it.<p>

Her mental state was infecting him, he realized.

"I called the doctor," she said, in monotone, not looking at him; barely moving her lips. "Booked an ultrasound."

"When?" Spike asked.

"Tomorrow."

He sat down beside her, knowing that was as much as he was going to get. Again he was lost between feeling guilty for the fact he wasn't there when she called, and feeling bitter that she'd done it without him. A small part of him even wondered if she'd made it up just to make him feel better. When he went to speak again she stood up and walked out of the room. A few seconds after that he heard her moving around in the bathroom. Spike tried not to be hopeful at the action, but he failed.

When Buffy came back, after a long while, she laid down again, this time pulling Spike with her and wrapping his arms around her middle. Facing him, she rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>Warren checked all of the monitors again, before running an anxious hand through his hair.<p>

"Something's not right. There's been no movement from the house since Willow left yesterday."

"Unless someone went out the back door," suggested Jonathan. "We don't have it covered."

"Hmm… I still feel like I'm missing something. Something big's happened to the Slayer, and I want to know what it is."

"You're in luck, then," came a voice from the top of the stairs.

All whipping around at once, the trio saw Dawn stood there, with a door handle in her hand. Tossing it at Warren she said, "I think you need a new lock."

* * *

><p>It was morning before Spike knew it. Buffy was up and dressed before he woke up. Opening his eyes he saw her doing her make up, and idly wondered how many times she'd wiped it off and started again.<p>

"Time to go," she said, after a while of silence. It was all she said.

Spike got up, pulled on his boots, and followed her down the hall. Passing Dawn's room he noticed she wasn't in it. Hoping she'd just gone over to her friend's house without telling her sister, he made a mental note to check up on her later. Right now he had bigger things to deal with.

* * *

><p>A deep frown was etched into the doctor's features. Buffy knew instinctively it was bad news. Was he about to tell her she was pregnant with a five-legged demon freak? She was so busy worrying she didn't actually hear the words, at first.<p>

"What?" Spike asked him, in shock.

Buffy swallowed and concentrated on trying to catch the news the second time around.

"There's no heartbeat," the doctor repeated.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Previously:_ Buffy went for an ultrasound, and Dawn broke into the Trio's hideout.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Seven<span>

"What do you mean there's no heartbeat? There has to be!"

The doctor looked at Buffy with pity in his eyes, and she hated it. "Perhaps the test gave a false positive," he suggested, "It happens."

"No," she insisted, "You don't understand. I took tons of them!"

The room was silent for a beat. Silent with the other, unspoken option, that she _had_ been pregnant, but wasn't anymore. Buffy shook her head. It was not an option she was going to consider. She looked to Spike for answers.

Stepping outside, the doctor gave them a moment.

* * *

><p>Spike's brow was furrowed, and he wasn't looking back at Buffy as much as staring a hole through her; eyes focused on her midsection. She thought he might be angry.<p>

Hell, _she_ was angry. The past few days had been torture. She'd probably lost her friendships over it. And it was all for nothing? She couldn't breathe.

Spike gripped her arm as panic gripped her heart.

"Take it easy," he instructed.

She hit him in the side of the head. He gritted his teeth and gripped her other arm tighter. It was trembling under his hold.

"Buffy, you need to take a breath. Think. This doesn't have to mean anything."

The world stopped for a moment. Her panting got a little softer, as her eyes grew wider. What was he saying? She was on tender hooks. He was studying her bump that wasn't a bump again.

"_I've_ got no heartbeat," he continued, "Doesn't mean I don't exist."

Buffy's hand went to her flat belly, "So, you think my baby really is there? Alive?" her voice hesitated over the next word: "Undead?"

Spike didn't know how to answer that question – any of her questions - and he wasn't sure if he would even if he could. They felt very much like a trap, and it didn't escape his attention that Buffy had referred to the baby – weather there or not – as hers, and not theirs.

"I don' know what to think," he said, finally.

"Well that's helpful!" Buffy snapped.

Helpful in the sense it made her forget about her on-coming panic attack, yeah, but he didn't say that. As wrong answers go, he reckoned he picked the best one and left it at that. He wasn't ready for the next question.

"How can I go for an abortion if I can't prove I'm pregnant?"

A moment. Another pause.

"Maybe a demon doc could give you answers?" _Because I sure as hell can't._

Buffy glared at him, and Spike swallowed down the suggestion, pretending he hadn't made it, before helping her up.

* * *

><p>The car ride home was done in silence; A heavier silence than the one that had rested on Spike's shoulders when they were on their way to the doctor in the first place. He hadn't thought things could get worse, an hour ago. But, of course, he was wrong.<p>

Spike fiddled with the radio, just to have something to do, but Buffy shut it off again, immediately. Their hands touched for the briefest of moments, on the dial, and then Buffy pulled hers back to her lap, like it was burnt.

Things were definitely worse.

* * *

><p>Warren had mixed feelings about Dawn being in his hideout: anger that she'd broken in, a little impressed that she'd broken in, horny, confused, interested, and worried.<p>

"You didn't lead Buffy here, did you?"

She shook her head. He was both relieved and disappointed about that. There was one fantasy he had in which both Dawn and Buffy would visit his place and-

"What do you want?" Andrew asked Dawn, cutting off Warren's wayward thoughts.

Dawn shrugged. "You guys seemed to have fun projects. Maybe I wanted to sign up."

"Maybe?" Jonathan asked, nervously.

She shrugged again, taking a glance around.

* * *

><p>Arriving outside Rovello Drive, Buffy made no move to get out of the car.<p>

Spike waited, as she stared into space.

After a while she said, "Either I never was pregnant, or I was, or I still am. Is that about it?"

Spike nodded. She turned to him, with fresh tears in her eyes. He resisted the urge to reach out to her, knowing he couldn't bear her to flinch away from him again.

"Why did you think you were pregnant?" he asked, when he could contain the question no more.

Buffy sniffled, and the tears receded further back into her eyes.

"Because I took the test, duh."

"No, I mean, why did you take the test?"

"Oh." That wasn't something she wanted to admit to, so she went for a half truth. "I wasn't feeling well."

Spike quirked an eyebrow, indicating he'd noticed she was hiding something, but he didn't push her on it, walking the tightrope of her emotions as he was.

After a moment Buffy seemed to close down her feelings completely, and lock them away. Face void of emotion, she walked into the house.

* * *

><p>They were only in through the front door a matter of minutes when someone knocked at it. Buffy didn't have the energy to answer, so Spike was the one to go.<p>

If it were possible, he felt the blood run cold in his veins.

"'ello, watcher."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter End Notes:<strong>

To avoid any unnecessary confusion, and because Buffy wasn't too eloquent in doing it herself, I'll spell out the possible scenarios here:

One - Buffy never was pregnant, there was just something wrong with the tests.

Two - Buffy was pregnant, but has since lost the baby.

Three - Buffy was pregnant, and still is, with a vampire baby with no heartbeat.

Four - Something else? *wicked grin*


	8. Chapter Eight

_Previously:_ Buffy had some worrying symptoms and took a pregnancy test, which was positive. Then Buffy kind of had a breakdown. Spike and Buffy recommenced their sexual relationship. Willow got upset, and Buffy told her to leave. Dawn dropped in on the Nerd Trio, an ultrasound declared there was no heartbeat to be found and, finally, Giles showed up.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Eight<span>

Giles hadn't believed Travers when he said the council had intelligence that Buffy and Spike were together. Seeing them now, however, made all his doubts vanish. It wasn't that they were touching, or even particularly looking at each other, but it was the way they moved in each other's space. There was a familiarity there that hadn't existed before. He stood in shock by his car as he watched them enter Rovello Drive. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

><p>Spike clenched his teeth.<p>

"'ello, watcher," he greeted, coolly.

The next thing he knew, Giles had hit him in the jaw – in a sore spot Buffy had already made, the day before. Unlike the first altercation, though, he growled at his attacker.

Giles had opened his mouth to insult him, or swear – maybe even to growl back – but before he could make a sound he found Buffy bearing down on him. His face fell. She looked gaunt – so much sicklier than she seemed from across the street. There was also something somewhat feral about her, he noticed.

"Buffy?" he questioned.

"How dare you?!" she said in response.

He was speechless. Confused. He had come looking for answers, and to search for them rationally, but the scene before him made no sense. Even if Spike and Buffy were together, why would she so fiercely defend him? Even with his chip he was far from helpless, especially against a human. More importantly, why was the girl whom he considered to be a surrogate daughter looking at him like they had no bond whatsoever?

Because she died, he reminded himself. She died, and he'd left. She'd came back, and he'd not been there. Then he'd returned, seen that she wasn't coping, and left again.

"Oh, Buffy, I'm sorry!" he blurted.

Relaxing her stance, she gave a small nod.

"Pet," said Spike to her, gently, "You should be taking it easy."

"I'm not ill," she protested.

He glanced at Giles.

"Are you sure about that?" asked the watcher.

Not answering, Buffy walked away from both of them and took a seat in the living room. After an awkward pause, Spike moved so that Giles could enter and follow her.

"What exactly is going on?" he began.

* * *

><p>Warren was getting twitchy. As much as he liked the idea of having a girl around in theory, the uncertainty of why she was there was deeply bothering him.<p>

"We've done chit-chat, Jonny-boy got you a Gatorade, now why don't you tell us why you're here?" he said. Then, when he could tell she was going to try and avoid the question again, he leaned closer and narrowed his eyes.

Dawn gulped.

"Why don't you back off a little?" asked Jonathan, "She's not causing any trouble."

"Shut it, Sparky. I didn't ask you. We don't know what she's up to, that's kinda the point."

"Nothing bad," she assured them, all semblance of confidence she had when she'd arrived now lost. "Or, uh, nothing good? Because you like bad, so bad is good, right?"

Warren shook his head and looked away.

"She's playing mind games," Andrew whined.

"She is not," said Jonathan.

That got Warren's attention. His eyes lit up with glee as he said, "Someone's got a crush on the jailbait."

"Oh! Who?" asked Andrew.

Ignoring him, Dawn and Jonathan shared an awkward glance.

"Oh my god, you do, don't you?" Warren continued to prod. After a moment his smile dropped, though, and he got in Dawn's face again. "What are you trying to pull? Is he in on it?"

"What? No. There's no pulling. Honest!"

"Why are you here?"

"I… I don't know. I should leave."

"Nu-uh, princess."

Jonathan stood up, "Warren, you can't keep her here."

Rising to his feet, too, and dragging Dawn up by the arm with him, Warren silently dared him to keep challenging him.

With a sharp intake of breath, and another glance at Dawn, Jonathan sat down again. For once in his life, Andrew had the good sense not to comment.

* * *

><p>After a few attempts at somewhat general interrogation, Giles started again with more specific questions.<p>

"Are you and Spike dating?"

Buffy balked, then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth upon seeing a range of emotions fly across her Vampire's expressive features. Taking a breath, then removing her hand again, she said, "I'm not sure I would call it dating."

Giles continued to look troubled as he read a lot of conflicting body language.

"What would you call it?" he pressed.

Buffy looked thoughtful before giving a dismissive wave of her hand and saying, "It's a thing."

Unable to take it anymore, Spike stood up and began pacing near the door.

"Can I go, or do you want me here?" he asked.

Again Buffy's entire demeanor changed.

"Go where?" she asked, in a sincere little-girl-lost voice.

"Jus' out for some air, you can holler if you need anything."

There was a brief nod of her head and then, with a swish of leather, he was gone. Giles expected Buffy to relax once they were alone, but she only seemed to tense up more.

"Is he hurting you?" he asked.

She looked at him, shocked, then began to shake her head.

"No. I'm hurting him," she admitted, before releasing a fresh batch of tears.

Spike was back at her side within moments. Holding her, tenderly, as she sobbed into his shoulder. To the watcher's complete horror, he heard her mumble a string of apologies, followed by what sounded suspiciously like, "What if I killed it?"

* * *

><p>Tara was surprised to find Willow on the doorstep of her temporary student apartment. The sight gave her an influx of warring emotions. Happiness was winning out, until she looked closer and saw a look of anger on her ex-girlfriend's face. Further assessment of the scene made her realize Willow had brought all her worldly possessions with her, as well as the fowl mood.<p>

Without ceremony, she was informed that she had no where to go, because Xander's "hoe of a vengeance demon didn't like her crashing with them."

"Umm," Tara worried her lip. Against her better judgment she said, "Wh-why don't you come in?"

_To be continued... _


End file.
